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Fearless Thunder
Thunder belongs to me, SIL3NC3D WHISP3RS, and is a reboot of darksong. Steal him and I shall wear your innards as a necklace. Some mild themes and minor swearing Appearance WIP Personality WIP History Before Joining the Fraus Gang Fearless' childhood was forgettable, to say the least. He developed and grew as any normal Tempestwing, save his slightly different appearance among the crowd. But then, everyone is unique, right? At least, that was what he told himself. Sure, there were a few strange stares from fellow orphans, and he was sure that they excluded him from some of their more exciting activities, but in the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter. What did matter, however, were the days after the orphanage, when he sought for a source of money. This is when the depression set in, as he worked at a poor paying factory job under some snobbish Icewing boss who looked down his nose at the lesser beings, smirking at their petty failures and fights. Fearless abhorred it. He hated his crummy apartment, mindless coworkers, the fact that he was just another face in the crowd, and if he died he'd be forgotten the moment his funeral started. He knew no one would attend, even if he had the money to pay for a bloody coffin. From such a discovery came an anxiety. The world was dangerous, and he was vulnerable, and if he died, that was it. Game over. The void terrified him to the point that he shut himself away from everyone, fearing betrayal, all the while hating himself for being so damned forgettable. He knew that in a world full of paint-bombs of bright and ridiculous colours, he was just a small grey blip, and there was nothing he could do to change that. He was just some kid from Foxtail, and that was that. But he still raged against the thought and prayed to all the gods that he would survive, just long enough to be feared. Respected. Exceptional. And that chance came with the Fraus gang. It was a normal day, (if constant hostility and depression were considered normal) until some large explosion shook the ground, making numerous employees stagger. Soon everyone was looking at the wall, dislodged bricks letting blinding light seep into the dimly lit slum. a few seconds later, another explosion rocked the factory, the wall caving in, sending dislodged bricks everywhere. Fearless was the first to duck under his desk, the slower dragons hit by the debris, cracking the skulls of the unlucky. what followed was a cacophony of screams and screeching metal, smoke hanging low over their heads as the machinery came to a to a stop. Thunder's heart stopped as he heard the heavy click-clack of large talons on the floor, the slithering of a thick tail upon the dusty concrete. He dared not look up, the rock in his stomach dragging him to the floor as spiders ran down his spine, every instinct in his body screaming to run as he crept along the floor in infuriatingly slow movements, as if walking in honey. He must admit, the experience was more dreamy than nightmarish, the surreal nature of the moment pulling him down with a sweet lullaby. what was the point of fighting, his tired brain asked itself, but adrenaline still pulled him forward. Of course, he didn't get very far. The bright light of hope filled his heart as he saw the exit, only to be blocked by a dark purple front limb, shiny black talons sharpened and cared for like a cutthroat's favoured blade. His eye drifted up toward the mirror like mask the nightwing wore, and he froze as the creature sliced his scaled in his attempt to grab hold of the slender Tempestwing. still a WIP Category:Characters Category:Males Category:Work In Progress Category:TempestWings